


Diet Christmas

by fhartz91



Series: Klaine Advent 2018 [14]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 23:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17089394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/fhartz91
Summary: This Christmas, Kurt is trying to keep Blaine on track by going healthy with the holiday treats. Rachel is all for it, Santana and Mercedes - not so much, and Blaine is sort of stuck in the middle.





	Diet Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Klaine Advent Drabble 2018 prompts kidnap/eggnog.

“What … what is this?” Blaine asks, poking tentatively at the glass of grey goop Kurt put down on the table in front of him.

“Veggnog,” Kurt says, handing a glass each to Santana, Mercedes, and Rachel.

“Excuse me … vegg-what now?” Santana asks while Mercedes gives her glass a sniff.

“Vegg-nog,” Kurt repeats slower. “As in vegan eggnog.”

Santana frowns at her serving. “Two questions: why would such an abomination exist? And why would you serve it to us?”

“Blaine has been doing so well sticking to his new diet that I didn’t want to derail him over Christmas,” Kurt explains, sitting beside his fiancé with his own cup of nog. “So, I decided to substitute healthy options for the junk food that runs rampant around here during the holidays.”

“That sounds … bland.” Mercedes gives her glass a shake. The stuff inside wiggles, doesn’t slosh the way normal eggnog would.

“Not really,” Blaine says in Kurt’s defense. “The sugar-free gingerbread cookies were actually rather tasty.”

Santana shakes her head slowly. “I can’t believe you just lied to your fiancé with a straight face.”

“I’m _serious_.”

“Well _I_ for one commend anyone who tries to embrace a plant-based, cruelty-free lifestyle.” Rachel raises her glass to Kurt, who returns the gesture. “Cheers.”

Solemnly, Santana, Blaine, and Mercedes raise their glasses as well.

“Down the hatch and over the gums …” Santana starts.

“Look out stomach, I’m really sorry,” Mercedes finishes.

Kurt and Rachel put their glasses to their lips and drink. It takes a bit longer for Blaine and Mercedes, and _way_ longer for Santana, who approaches her drink the way she might a swimming pool in winter – one toe at a time, inch by inch, never fully putting a complete foot in. But eventually the thick, grey substance touches her tongue.

She recoils immediately.

“Oh my God! What’s _in_ this!?”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Cashews, coconut milk, allspice, vanilla, dates, nutmeg, maple syrup …”

“You know, all those things separately sound delicious,” Mercedes says around a cough. “But, apparently, you put them together, and they taste like …”

“Paste,” Blaine finishes without a second thought, shrinking in his seat when Kurt glares.

“But at least it’s festive smelling paste,” Mercedes says, smacking her lips.

“Come on, guys! Give it a chance!”

“I’m sorry, Kurt! But something about this tastes like … like …”

“Depression,” Santana says.

“There you go,” Mercedes agrees, pushing her glass away.

“It’s not _that_ bad,” Kurt objects, taking another sip, subconsciously shaking his head.

“He’s right,” Rachel says, her glass already half empty. “You just have to give it a few tries to truly appreciate the flavor.”

Santana hears Blaine whimper as he gulps another mouthful. _It doesn’t seem to be getting much better for him_ , she thinks. She tries to lift her glass to her mouth for one more taste, but her arm won’t let her, and she slams it down.

“Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Can’t do it. What else you got?”

“I’m glad you asked.” Kurt gets out of his chair, beaming with pride, and heads for the kitchen counter where he has laid out a spread of vegan treats. “We have pine needle shortbread cookies, purple potato and fennel pudding, ooo – a lovely chickpea pie …”

Santana scowls. “Ugh! Stop! Just stop!”

“Kurt, honey …” Mercedes sighs “… I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you’re ruining Christmas.” She gets up out of her chair and grabs Blaine’s wrist. “Come on, Santana. Give me a hand.”

“Gotcha.” Santana grabs Blaine’s other wrist. The two women yank him out of his chair, much to Kurt’s horror, and start dragging him towards the door.

“What … what are you doing!?” Kurt cries, leaping over chairs to chase after them.

Santana snatches Blaine’s coat off the rack by the door and drops it on his head without stopping. “We’re kidnapping your fiancé!”

“Yeah. We’re going to take him to the first bakery we find and fill him with gluten!”


End file.
